Page 75 of Only Temporary

“It’s not enough,” he says, his voice cracking. “I spent every day wondering when you would come back.”

I put my hand on his shoulder, ignoring the sweat, and look into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to all of you. But I do love you all, and I promise you I’ll be better.”

“Fucking the social worker was you being better?”

“He makes me better,” I tell him honestly because he needs to know. “I didn’t see that coming at all. I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love, but then here he came, just bursting into my world.”

I know I can’t keep the goofy smile off my face, but to my surprise, Cason actually grins at that. “You’re so whipped.”

I smirk, dropping my hand and playing it cool, but it’s no use. “I am.”

“I didn’t know you were gay.” There’s no judgment there or anything else really. It’s just a statement.

“I’m not.” He quirks his brow curiously, like he’s calling bullshit, and I laugh. “I didn’t think I was anything. Broken is what I thought I was. But it doesn’t matter to me that Phillip is a man—just that he’s mine.”

He seems a little confused by that but more understanding than I had expected. “But you and Tatum... never...”

“God no.” I cringe. “He’s like another brother to me. That would never be a thing.”

He laughs at that but then sobers up with a sigh. “You know I’d never tell anyone about you and Phillip. I was never going to.”

“Yeah. I know,” I say because I do. “This isn’t about that. It’s about you and me. I want your forgiveness, but I know it takes time, and I’m going to have to work at it. I want your trust too, Cason, and more than anything, I want to give you time to be a kid and figure out who you are and who you want to be.”

He gives a clipped nod, not giving anything else away. I wouldn’t expect him to. “I don’t mind Phillip.”

I bark out a laugh and then go back to the bag. “Good. Because he’s going to be around a lot, if I have anything to say about it.”

He moves over and throws a hard punch. “Well, don’t fuck it up.” He’s smirking, and I laugh, shaking my head at him and holding onto the bag as he starts to pummel it again.

Not. A. Chance.

THIRTY-FOUR

Where’s Tatum?” I ask as I place the food on the dining room table, looking at Kellan, who’s started to fix plates for the kids.

“He said he’s thrilled I have a boyfriend now and he doesn’t have to take care of my sad ass,” Kellan says, and I laugh but can’t resist leaning in to give him a quick peck on the mouth, which of course causes all four kids to groan about how gross it is.

I take a seat next to Kellan, unbothered. It’s been a hell of a week since we officially told them about our relationship. I actually haven’t been back to my apartment since then. I probably should, but it’s been so comfortable here. Like home.

Cason has been less prickly since his brother got him a gym membership, and I have to say that was a great call. Not that I get to write that on any forms. I just got to tell my boyfriend how proud of him I was in bed the other night.

And every night.

It’s incredible what he’s accomplished in these eight months, and I have no doubt the new social worker, Brooke, will be recommending he gets full and permanent custody of all four kids. She’s a friendly woman, who takes her job seriously but could see how much Kellan loved these kids from the first visit.

She also wasn’t all that surprised to see me here when she showed up—said Margie had given her a heads-up. I don’t know why Margie didn’t call me out, but Brooke told me she actually met her husband in a very similar situation, and they’re going on ten years’ married now.

I start to eat slowly, looking around the table at the kids and Kellan—wondering if we’ll get married someday, but not really needing that answer. I don’t even know if I want that, but I know I want him and them in my life forever.

“Do you think Brooke will be here next week?” Braylen asks, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“I don’t think she’ll be back for a few weeks. You guys are on the downhill part of this process. Don’t need much supervision,” I say with a smile and hand him a napkin when some of the potatoes escape his mouth. “Why? Don’t you like Brooke?”

He shrugs his little shoulders. “She’s fine, but I don’t want to clean my room.”

I meet Kellan’s eyes as he laughs. “God forbid you have to clean your room.”

“I know, right?” Braylen says happily. He looks over at me. “I do like having friend Phillip here, though, instead of you having your forms.”

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